Deadpool meets The Endless
by Lupus27
Summary: After a bit of an accident, the merc with a mouth ends up in the realms of The Endless from Neil Gaimain's Sandman series.
1. And there shall be cross over!

Wade Wilson is a very interesting specimine. I've heard many words used to describe him.

Funny.

Crazy.

Brave.

Stupid.

Chauvanistic.

Incredibly naive.

Almost cartoonish in his outlook on life.

A homicidal wackjob who's so severely fucked up in the head that his mom should probably have just gotten an abortion.

Okay, the last few were more along the lines of phrases and coherent sentances than words, but you get the idea. People have alot of differing opinions on him. Personally, I say, "he's a complicated man, and no one understands him but his woman."

Well, if he had a woman, that is. The closest he's got to a woman is blind Al. And she's more of a mother figure to him than anything else. And really, she's more of a blind lady that he randomly kidnapped of the street and held hostage to play the part of his mother figure than an actual mother figure.

But I digress.

Currently, we find Wade on his way to his favorite bar in New York, the Bar with No Name. Really, he hates the place, but it's the only place that'll have him. Officially, it's a bar not unlike any other. Unofficially, and anyone in the neighborhood who's smart knows this, it's a bar specifically for the criminal fraternity. Scumbags and psychopaths in all shapes and sizes stop by to get hammered. More than a few of them hate the place, but more than a few of them also have rather impressive rap sheets and are currently wanted by the police, and it being the only place to get anything resembling hard liquor where they won't call the cops and the cops won't dare step foot in, they go.

Wade steps in, and grabs a bar stool. He scopes out the room. Herman Schultz and Alex O'Hirn (who, prepetually wearing a giant Rhino suit, is very hard to miss) are sitting at a table in the middle of the place, talking about their latest atempts and failures to get legitimate jobs. Otto Octavious sits in the corner, sipping a dry apple martini and reading "Atlas Shrugged." Radny Beumont, a serial killer who escaped from police custody mid transport, is nervously sipping a beer. First time at the bar. Hasn't sunk in that no one there gives much of a crap as to who he is and what he's done.

The bartender on duety today, Clarice, a 25 year old single mother desperate enough to work at this particular bar, walks up to Wade.

"Well, if it ain't the Merc with a Mouth himself."

"Ah! Clarice!"

In a feigned and overly dramatic manner, Wade bows, takes Clarice's hand, and kisses it. He, as _suavely _as possible, raises his head and makes eye contact with Clarice.

"How _are _you doing, m'dear?"

"Cut the crap."

Wade sits back down in a quick, almost cartoonish manner.

"The crap is now sufficiently cut."

Clarice gives a tiny, partially annoyed and partially amused smirk.

"What'll you have?"

"You know the stuff that makes your vision blurry, your motor functions shotty, and your comon sense quite lax after only a few shots?"

"Yeah?"

"Gimme a bottle."

"Are you out of your mind?"

"You're right. Better make that two bottles. Might get thirsty on the drive home."

"You kill yourself, I ain't going to the funeral."

Clarice walks into the back room. After a few moments of Wade uncomfortably looking around and scrathing his face through his mask, she returns with two, unlabbled bottles of mead that look like they haven't been opened since 1872.

"Just don't let this be a repeat of last time."

"...last time?"

"When you got hammerd, stripped down naked, climbed to the top of the statue of liberty, and started singing 'luck be a lady tonight'."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It was on the news for about a day and a half! You were screaming that you wouldn't come down unless they brought Frank Sinatra!"

"...are you on the marajuana, woman?"

"Do you have to be an ass about everything?"

"..._yeah_..."

Clarice slams the bottles onto the bar and angrily walsk off to deal with another customer.

"Strange woman."

Wade unscrews his bottle of mead and begins sipping it slowly. Then, suddenly, there's a hard pat on his shoulder. Wade turns around, and finds himself face to face with Truman Capote (in no way related to the flamboyantly gay novelist of the 1960s who penned the critically aclaimed book and latter major motion picture "Breakfast at Tiffany's").

"Hiya Wilson."

"Hi flamboyantly gay novelist of the 1960s who penned the critically aclaimed book and latter major motion picture 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'"

"Funny."

"Wow. Thanks. Didn't think I was that tal..."

"Shut the up."

"Or we could do that."

"Wilson, your horse lost the race."

"I'm well aware of that."

"You bet one million dollars on your horse to win."

"I'm well aware of that aswell."

"You've yet to pay up said million."

"Is your official title in the mafia 'guy sho tells people things they already know'?"

"Shut up with the jokes you stupid . My boses are not happy that you haven't payed up. So, I'm telling you, give me my money."

"...no."

Wade turns back to his drink. Truman grabs his shoulder and spins him around.

"You give me the money, or I make you give me the money."

"Ain't gonna happen, queer eye."

"Y'know, I thought you'd react like that. And I know that me and my boys can't take you on our own."

"See? I knew you were a smart boy."

"So, I called in a few favors. Cain?"

A tall man in a jacket and hoodie stands up from a shady booth in the back. He takes off his outer clothing, revealing his large frame and red body armor. He is Cain Marko.

The Juggernaut.

Waid looks up at him.

"...hey. It's the Juggernaut. Whadya know?

The Juggernaut smiles and looks down/

"Hi there."

"...could you please say it?"

"Say what?"

"You know. 'I'm the Juggernaut, bitch'!"

The next few seconds are a blur for Wade. But, from what he can gather when he comes to, they involved some combination of The Juggernaut delivering a haymaker to his jaw, him being hurled out of the window of the bar, crashing into the apartment building across the street, and falling to the sidewalk below. Deadpool, quite groggily, looks up at his attacker.

"I don't think he's gonna say it."

The Juggernaut charges at him. Wade quickly programs his teleporter to take him right onto The Juggernaut's back, so he can cut loose his helmet. The 'porter activates, but instead of landing on his intended raget, he finds himself mid air about three feet in front of his intended target. He begins to fall and The Juggernaut slams into him at full speed, sending the two crashing into a building. Wade falls to the ground, and picks himself up from the rubble.

Wade runs at The Juggernaut, flipping over one of his punches, and ramming his katana into The Juggernaut's left eye. Cain screams, and swats Wade away. He charges at Wade once again, and Wade atempts to teleport five feet to his right. Instead, he ends up 30 feet in the air.

"Cheap Canadian peice of crap."

Wade falls to the ground. He stands, and begins running down the street as his bones and organs sift back into place. However, Marko, who's speed vastly dwarfs Wade's, soon catches up to him. He grabs Wade, and swings him through the window of a nearby resturaunt. The Juggernaut reddies a punch, and Wade hastily fiddles with his teleporter. Just before the blow connects, Wade vanishes, and the punch instead liquifies a twelve year old asian girl. Cleaning the blood and organs from his fist, Marko begins to look around for Wade.

Elswhere, Wade rises from the ground. He looks around. He is in a dark room. In the middle of it is a round table illuminated by an unseen light source. Around it sits a man in a grey robe, a teenage goth girl, a man in a black robe, a tall muscular man with a red pony tail, a woman (or possibly a highly effeminate man) in a red velvet suit, a fat woman with dirty grey hair and cuts all over her skin, and a young teenage girl with torn clothes, a pink T-shirt with dolphines on it, and unkept and randomly died rainbow hair. Wade, being the poet that he is, feels the need to comment on the sight before him.

"...what the fuck?"


	2. Worlds collide yet again

Now, not all are familiar with The Endless. They have not appeared in what I would call mainstream comics, so there are probably more than a few who are unfamiliar with them. So, let me explain:

The Endless are, and this is me describing them to the best of my abilities, life. They are life and the basic abstract concepts that make it up, in living form. Now, they are not gods. Not a one of them has every been actually worshiped. I mean, how can someone worship an abstract concept? Now, some of them have been confused with gods. But gods, for the most part, are concepts created by human beings. Some of them may be alive, but they are alive because we willed them into existence. They came from us and cannot exist without us. Which, interestingly enough, is a trait they share with The Endless. The Endless came into being because we came into being. They make up many aspects of our lives, and depend upon us as much as we depend upon them. The only way they could truly die is with the death of every sentient life form in the universe. The Endless are:

Destiny 

Death

Dream

Destruction 

Desire

Despair

Delirium

Their names should tell you exactly what each of them are about. Now, they are not gods, as I said. They do not control these things. They are these things. Death is Death, given life and form. Same with Destiny and Dream and the rest of them. They are the abstract made tangible. Each of The Endless has their own realm. Now, we will explore most of these realms later on, so there's only one we should concentrate on at the moment. Destiny's realm. His realm is one giant garden, made up by what is essentially the most complex maze of hedges and plants in all of creation. Each path leads to another set of paths, some intersecting, most not. In the center of the maze is Destiny's home, a large stone building in Greek architectural style. And, in the very center of Destiny's home is a meeting hall. The meeting hall of The Endless.

Currently, each of The Endless are seated around the stone table in the meeting hall. They are not discussing greater matters of the cosmos, but instead their personal lives. How things have been. What good books they've read lately. Destruction even asks if anyone watched the Patriots game last night. The mix of confused and annoyed stares serve as an adequate no. And then, suddenly, surprise of surprises, Deadppol suddenly appears roughly 20 feet away from the table, greeting the abstracts made flesh with a hearty "what the fuck."

Of course, if you read part one, you knew that part already.

If you didn't read part one, then I am simply offended. I put alot of effort into that, you know. Thought about that for a good long while. It's not like it's easy. It's not like I just sit down at my computer and the funny starts pouring onto the page. It's hard work. And don't try and apologise now. It's far too late for an apology to do any good. Just go. Go and read your comic books, with the fancy pictures and word baloons and the such.

But I digress.

Quite shocked (wouldn't you be?), Deadpool quickly looks around.

"Why the hell am I in the meeting hall of The Endless, located in the inner sanctum of Destiny's home, which it's self is located in the middle of his etheral gardens? Also, on a related note, what the fuck does any of that mean?" 

Desire, casually leaning back in his (or her. That part tends to change with this one) chair, cocks an eyebrow and gives a smirk.

"And what, praytell, do we have here? A demon, perhaps? Or maybe a sorcerer. Or, it could be a pixie. Are pixies short or tall? I must say, it's been so long since I've seen one myself, I've forgotten. Or, are pixies extinct? I think they..."

Destiny stands, completely ignoring Desire, and calmly says:

"He is Wade Wilson. He is a sentient, organic, carbon based life form from dimension six hundred sixteen. His speicese is human, and thus, naturally, he is from the planet Earth in the Sol system, located on the edge of the milky way galaxy. He hails from Canada, a nation located on Earth, to be percise. Interesting fact: Due to tamperings with his genetic structure by agent's of Canada's governmental powers, he posse..."

Desire rolls his/her eyes.

"Thankyou. For future reference, simply saying "he's a human from Earth" would have done just fine."

Destiny turns his atention to Desire.

"...my apologese, sibling. I understand that I tend to...RAMBLE."

"Yes. You do. By the source, having living dictionary for an older brother takes the fun out of things."

"I HEARD that."

"You hear everything."

"Ummm, guys?"

Death, the second oldest of The Endless, speaks up.

"I think we're getting off track here."

"Death is right" says Dream. "We should send the mortal back to his home." 

"Come now! No need to be rude. It would be inhospitable to simply send him away" interjects Destruction.

Delirium looks around at the others, and then speaks.

"i thINK HE's nIce LOOKinG. I MEAn, hE seemS NicE. uuUHh, yEAh."

Despair simply grunts.

Deadpool looks back and forth at the others as they talk. Finally, he speaks up.

"Uhhh, maybe we should let the mortal decide what happens to him and not act like he isn't in the room?"

All of them look at each other silently. Soon, Death walks up to Deadpool, slightly embarrassed.

"Duh. Sorry. That was rude. Let's start over, shall we?"

She sticks out her hand.

"Hi. I'm Death. And yeah, I know, it's got a certain creep out factor to it. If it bothers you, you can call me Didi if you like."

Deadpool grabs her hand in a hardy shake.

"Hiya Didi! I'm Deadpool, but you can call me Wade. And, personally, I like the name Death just fine." 

"That's good. Wait..."

"So, why they call you Death? Some kind of high school nick name, or were your parents hippies?"

"No. I am Death. What you consider to be Death, that's me. I am Death incarnate."

"...dude. Fucking cool."

Death, slightly taken aback, gives a confused look.

"You think so? Alot of people are weirded out by it."

"No way dude. That stuff's fucking cool."

Wade looks past Death at the rest of The Endless.

"Hey, who're those queermos?" 

"Oh, they're..."

"Don't care. They suck."

Wade walks up to the table.

"Got any food around here?"  
Destiny looks down at him.

"In the next room, you will see a banquet table set for eight. It is to be our supper. Being my guest, I will allow you to begin without us if you feel the need."

"Thanks, big boring cloak dude. You rock. You still suck, though."

Wade walks into the banquet hall. Dream turns to Death.

"What an insolent little mortal."

"Come on, little brother. Cut him some slack. He obviously belongs to Delirium."

"oH yEAH. I 'MEmbEr HIm. HE'S tHE fUnNy GUy. he'S FUNny."

"See? He's not in his right mind. And hell, he seems like a decent guy even if he isn't crazy.

"...I suppose."

Deadpool walks back into the room.

"There any more food? You're all out."

"There was enough food there to serve eight people" says a very confused Destiny.

"Yeah. It was good too."

Destiny's eyes widen in sheer shock.

"You ate it ALL!"

"That's what I'm saying. You def or something? Now, get with the cooking. Chop Chop."

Dream gives a very "I told you so" look to Death. She simply smiles weakly.

"Oh yes. This is certainly going to turn out well" he says.


	3. A fanfic so nice, they did it thrice

The gardens of Destiny have inspired many varied and wondrous thoughts in the minds of the lucky few who have seen them. The Witches Three, female prophets who's presence has spanned many mythologies, see it as a "great tapestry of being." A little known poet who experienced the gardens through a shamanic experience described it as "The complex winding road of life." The Ancient One, a master sorcerer, simply said it was "magnificent." After being shown to his room, Wade Wilson's first question was "Does this place have cable?"

Currently, Wade sits on the couch in his room, eating frosted flakes and watching his newly purchased "Ren and Stimpy" DVDs.

"Oh Ren and Stimpy. You're so subtextually homosexual."

Destiny stands outside of the door, watching the scene. Soon, and in an uncharacteristically frustrated manner, Destiny storms off to his hall of paintings.

"SIBLINGS! HERE! NOW!"

For a few moments, nothing. Then, the pictures of the Endless in their respective portraits come to life and step out of their paintings. Dream steps over to his elder brother.

"What do you need of us, brother?"

Destiny grits his teeth and points towards Deadpool's room.

"HE. WON'T. LEAVE!"

Destiny leads his siblings to Wade's quarters.

"Destiny, it can't be that bad" says Death."

Destiny, slowly, turns to his sister.

"All he does all day is sit in front of the TV and watch old Nickelodeon shows from the 90s. I've had to watch Pete and Pete in it's entirety SIXTEEN TIMES! And he never does anything for himself. He makes me do EVERYTHING! He makes me cook, he makes me clean, he even made me read him a BED TIME STORY ONCE!"

Destiny slams open the door to Deadpool's room. Wade turns around.

"HEY! KEEP IT DOWN! I'm watching my stories!"

Destiny looks around at his siblings.

"He is moving in with one of you. Now."

They all put their fingers on their noses, with the exception of Dream. He looks at his other siblings.

"...damn it all."

The Dreaming. The culmination of all imagination, inspiration, and creativity in the universe. It is a world of the mind, populated by countless wonderful creatures and containing many diverse lands, ranging from mystical kingdoms to futuristic utopias. It is here that Dream calls home. It is his domain.

Currently, Deadpool is being guided through the halls of Dream's castle by Matthew, Dream's raven.

"So, this is the main reception hall" says Matthew. "Where the boss has guests. Not used too much. And, on our right up ahead, is the library."

Deadpool and Matthew enter the library, and find Lucien, keeper of the books, organizing some newly arrived novels. He turns to greet them.

"Ah! The new arrival! Splendid!"

Lucien walks over to Deadpool and shakes his hand.

"Hello there. My name is Lucien. I'm the book keeper around here. And this is the largest library in the multiverse. It contains every story that has every been conceived by mortal minds, weather it was written down or not."

"Can I take a look through?" says Deadpool.

"Why, of course. Just..."

Wade rushes past him. He climbs a ladder, begins taking books off of the shelves, reads the titles, and then throws them to the ground.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap. Ohh, Anne of Green Gables. Crap Crap Crap Crap Crap Crap Crap. The Empire Strikes Back, alternate ending: Luke's father is Chubaka? Crap Crap Crap Cr..."

Lucien watches the scene in sheer horor.

"My...MY BOOKS!"

Lucien grabs Wade, pulls him off the ladder and drags him to the door.

"You...you DEMON!" shouts Lucien. "GET OUT OF MY LIBRARY!"

Lucien, quite loudly, shuts the door behind our masked hero.

"Touchy."

Deadpool walks down the hall, until he is stoped by Dream himself.

"Mr. Wilson."

"Hi there."

"You wouldn't happen to know why the land of the Cuckoo is on fire, would you?"

Deadpool looks around the hallway. He then draws his gun and shoots Dream in the face. Dream, unharmed, glares at him. A door apears next to them, and Dream points to it.

"Get out of my realm."

Yankee stadium. Home of the world renound New York Yankees. It is here that we find the Merc with a Mouth, on a day out with Destruction. They sit in front row seats, right over the dug out.

"Now, my friend" says Destruction. "THIS is a sport. Not like football or hockey. No. This is a thinking man's game. It requires true skill. Not just smashing into one another very quickly."

Deadpool's atention, however, is not on the game, but on the busty blond sitting three seats away from him.

"Damn. Check her out..."

Twenty minutes later, and the game is in full swing.

"There he goes, ladies and gentlemen!" says the announcer. "A Rod's going, he's going, A Rod steals second base!"

Deadpool quickly turns his atention back to the game.

"A thief, eh? Not on MY watch!"

Deadpool unsheaths his sword and leaps onto the feild. He shouts at A Rod.

"STOP! IN THE NAME OF THE LAW!"

A few minutes, a faint swishing sound, and a deafening scream later, Deadpool hops back into his seat.

"Fun game" he says.

Destruction looks at him in complete shock.

"You cut of A Rod's hands!"

Deadpool stares at him blankly.

"...and?"

Desire's realm is quite different from all the others. It consists entirely of a giant statue in Desire's image. The statue is so imense, it would take well over a century to walk through it's veins. And, in the very heart of the statue, lives Desire it's self. Wade, carrying his bags, enters the inner chamber of the heart. He sets his bags down.

"Nice place."

Desire struts over to Wade. It's eyes, a deep and intoxicating yellow, seem to peer into his very soul.

"Welcome to my realm, Wade Wilson. As you can see, I like things to be on a scale of grandure. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. Partake of any and all delights that are within my power to give to you. You are...are you staring at my breasts?"

"Yes. I am. They're quite nice."

"Well. Thankyou. I do take pride in them."

"You really do have alot to be proud of in that area."

"Hmmm. Well, come with me. Let me show you the rest of my chambers."

Desire gives Wade the full tour. A few hours later, Desire is sitting on a couch reading a book. Wade is sitting next to him/her. After a few moments, Desire, quite annoyed, looks up at Wade.

"You really can stop looking at my breasts now."

"Rather not."

"Are you EVER going to stop?"

"Doubtful."

"Please leave my realm."

"Alright."

The realm of Despair. A land of mist and mirriors, populated only by Despair and her rats. And now Deadpool. Deadpool sits across from Despair at a wooden table.

"So. What do you want to do?"

Despair grunts.

"Wanna play cards?"

"No."

"Wanna watch TV?"

"No."

"Wanna go see a movie?"

"No."

"Well, what do you do for fun around here?"

"I like to watch people cry. And cut myself."

"Dude. You are seriously messed up in the head, you know that?"

Despair sighs. Then, sobbing slightly, she stands up and quickly leaves. Deadpool watches her go.

"Fucking emo."

Delirium's realm, not surprisingly, is simply a mass of swirling colors. Deadpool and Delirium sit silently, floating in the rainbow of psychosis. Deadpool turns to Delirium.

"Got a TV around here?"

"sHUr."

Delirium snaps her fingers, and a TV that seems to be barely holding together at a molecular level appears. Deadpool turns it on, but gets only static.

"Damn. Bad reception. Hold on, I think I can fix it."

Los Angeles California, two hours later. The city is in flames. Buildings are toppled over and crumbled into the ground. The dead and dying lay through the streets, as the survivors wail in grief and agony. The city runs red with blood. In the middle of it all, Delirium and Deadpool stand on a street corner. Deadpool turns to Delirium.

"You know, it retrospect, that was not one of my better ideas."

The realm of Death, unlike most of the other Endless realms, is nothing particularly special to look at. It's simply a well furnished apartment. The kind you'd expect to see a young, 20 something woman living in. Death herself is just getting out of the shower. As she puts on a fluffy pink bathrobe, she hears a nock at the door. She quickly covers up, and heads to the door, opening it. There stands Deadpool, holding his suitcases.

"Hiya, roomie!"

Death does her best to look happy to see him.

"...hi."


End file.
